


get beside me, I want you to love me

by NeoVenus22



Category: 10 Things I Hate About You (1999)
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before Kat had to ship off to Sarah Lawrence, Patrick showed up at her doorstep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	get beside me, I want you to love me

The night before Kat had to ship off to Sarah Lawrence, Patrick showed up at her doorstep, in a suit with his hair slicked back. "If I might borrow your daughter for the evening?" he asked Kat's dad, flashing the dimpled smile that always soothed Kat's jangled nerves.

"The last night I'm going to have with my daughter, and you whisk her off to get her pregnant in the backseat of your jalopy?" said Dr. Stratford derisively.

"It's all right, Dad, he's shooting blanks," Kat said, then ducked out of the door before her father could splutter.

"You are not a very nice person when crossed," Patrick observed, starting the car.

"It took you this long to figure that out?"

* * *

"So where are we going? Dinner?"

"Nope."

"A movie?"

"No."

"Not some stodgy violin thing."

"Never," he said, mock-affronted.

"So really, where are we going?"

Patrick made a left into a parking lot. "Right here."

Kat gaped, not quite believe it. "The paintball park?"

"I want you to go out with the best memories of me possible."

"And the suit?" she asked, not getting it.

Patrick beamed at her, very proud of himself. "I thought you might like destroying a symbol of an 'oppressive, greed-driven society,'" he mimicked her, "or whatever. You know, make a statement."

Kat stared at him for a long moment. "You know, you make the most compelling argument for committing oneself to a monogamous relationship I've seen yet."

Patrick grinned and kissed her. "I love you, too."

* * *

Kat had played softball as a kid, and was unabashedly proud of both her arm and her badassery. She hurled a ball of red paint at Patrick, watched it hit and arc scarlet over his suit. "Where'd you get the suit, anyway?" she asked. It wasn't the one from prom. "Just another thing you had lying around?"

"A true magician never reveals his secrets," he said pompously, winging a yellow ball at her. Kat ducked and watched it hit a bale of hay unimpressively.

She glanced back and found Patrick wasn't standing where she'd left him. A brief moment of panic kicked in, intensified when she suddenly found strong arms around her waist, a splattering sensation at the base of her skull, and cold, wet paint dribbling down the back of her neck. "Oh, you suck," she said, attempting to twist free from his grip and retaliate, but only finding herself pressed against his chest in a definite embrace.

"Yes, but you like me anyway," Patrick declared, lowering his mouth to hers. Kat didn't mind, because the pleasant tingle running up her spine from Patrick's touch was infinitely better than the cool sensation of paint running down it. And she definitely didn't mind when they fell backwards into the hay, sinking into it, with Patrick's weight on top of her.

"I'm really going to miss you," Patrick said when they finally came up for air.

"Yeah." It was a little too much to put voice to how much she'd miss him back. "Why don't you leave me a memory to look back fondly on?" she said instead, undoing his belt smoothly, which was the clearest signal she could give.

Fortunately for her, Patrick was a smart guy. His tongue went in her mouth and his hands slid cautiously up her shirt. He touched her like he was flirting, like he wasn't sure if he could or should go forward. They'd been flirting and skirting around this issue for months now. Kat was tired of waiting. She shifted awkwardly, reached around, and unhooked her bra. "Patrick, please."

So he did: hitching her shirt up over her breasts so he could lave his tongue over them slowly, making her squirm. She let out a soft groan of approval before unzipping his pants and sliding her hands inside. Patrick moaned against her breast, hard in her hand.

"You're beautiful, you know," he said. He licked her nipple.

"I'm covered in paint," she said. She stroked him.

"As if that makes a difference," he said. He unzipped her jeans, tugged them and her panties down. "Although I wish you'd worn a skirt." Before she could think of a suitable answer, he pressed his fingers against her clit and elicited an honest-to-God moan from her that she hadn't been expecting. Patrick grinned in triumph, but she just added her other hand to the mix to cup his balls.

"No," he said, shaking his head. His 'distinguished' ponytail had started to come loose in the melee, and loose strands brushed against his face. "I want... I want to be inside you, Kat."

_Finally_.

She hoisted his pants down over his ass, finally freeing him and getting to see the hard evidence of all her work. "Condom," she hissed, because not that she'd ever admit it, but she actually listened to her dad.

Patrick obligingly pulled a square from his pocket. Kat swatted his arm. "You planned this."

"I'm prepared," he informed her curtly, then rolled it on and settled over her. "You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, you idiot."

With Joey, it had been hard and fast, him eager to get his rocks off with another in an endless stream of stupid girls. He'd barely paid attention to Kat being there. Patrick moved slowly but surely, watching her, gauging her response and taking his time, until the last thing she wanted was for him to take his time, then she dug her heels into his ass, to push him deeper, harder, faster.

She came this time.

"I love you," he said when he was done, stretched out in the hay next to her, in suit and tie, with his pants down to his ankles, and his arm stretched across her hips to cover her nakedness from any passers-by, not that there were any, or she wouldn't have bothered in the first place.

Patrick never had any problems saying it. It came easily to him, meaning it, saying it, even understanding why she never said it back. She thought it every time, though.

Kat rolled onto her side and kissed him. Later that night, at home, she would examine herself in the mirror and spot minute scratches from where the hay had found her skin, all but invisible next to the fingerprints and streaked lines marking where Patrick had loved her.

She really was going to miss him.


End file.
